The Hunger Games Remake
by PissedWriter
Summary: What if Prim wasn't chosen in the Reaping? What if it was... someone else? The Hunger Games


The Hunger Games Remake

Chapter One: Unfair Trade

Tibby Goldseam crept on all fours along the forest floor. She had to be silent, not wanting to draw any unneeded attention to herself. Her dark, almost black, hair was pulled back into a lopsided bun to keep it from being dragged through the mud. Her leather jacket and pants were noiseless as she padded along the forest floor. A stick broke under her palm and she froze, wincing. Listening. Waiting. Satisfied that no one heard her, she continued through the brush. A stick scraped against her cheek, but she wouldn't dare shift from her path. Her breathing was shallow, so her chest rose only slightly because she wouldn't allow her body to move anymore than she needed. These were the actions she needed to accomplish survival.

"I see you, Tibby." She cringed at the boots that appeared in her line of vision on the forest floor. "You need to try harder." He scolded, helping her to her feet.

Tibby huffed. "I don't know that I can try any harder." She argued. "I'm hardly breathing even!" He chuckled. "Gale! It isn't funny! If I'm chosen in the reaping ball, I'll never survive without proper stealth!"

Gale blew the breath trapped in his lungs of out slowly, a visible cloud of condensation protruding from his mouth. "You won't be chosen, Tib. You're only in the ball ten times, and that's _with _the tesserae. I'm pretty sure your odds are less than most."

Tibby crossed her arms, stubbornly. "I have as much chance of being chosen as anyone, cousin!" She argued. These arguments were typical throughout district 12- especially since the reaping was tomorrow. "Last year, that girl was only in there twice, and still, she was chosen!"

Gale had lost, and he knew it. "Come on, let's find Catnip." He grumbled, leading the fell into step behind her cousin. It wasn't a long walk through the woods to find her- curled up in a thin tree in her black leather jacket. Her hair in it's usual side braid and her eyes intent on something below her. The two waited to approach her until she shot her prey with one of her many arrows. Gale clapped his hands as he went to retrieve the rabbit with an arrow right through it's eye, so as not to damage the meat.

Katniss jumped from the tree, landing with a soft thud. "Not my best..." she murmured, disapprovingly, although it was a great catch. "I think we're done here. Tibby?" She reached for her belt and handed Tibby a thick leather cord, which she'd strung three squirrels, and now the rabbit. It was Tibby's job to sell them.

Tibby began her run through the brush, needing to get to the baker's before he closed his shop. He was a nice man; always leaving the back door unlocked for Tibby to just walk right in when she was done hunting, enabling her to trade in secret.

It wasn't a long jog before she came to the electric fence, which she easily climbed under. The baker's shop wasn't too far, so Tibby walked along the path at a reasonable pace, before she noticed how close the sun was to the horizon. Cursing under her breath, she hurried down the dirt path, ignoring the curious stares from the other townsfolk. Making her way around the building, she leapt through the open door…

…and crashed right into the baker's son.

"Hey! Watch it!" Peeta exclaimed, staring, distraught, at the empty basket he held in his hands, it's contents— white and brown rolls— scattering across the floor. Tibby muttered her apologies as she helped him pick up the bread. His eyes met hers as they finished. "I'm… Sorry, I didn't mean to snap." Peeta mumbled, his blue eyes locked on Tibby's green ones as he helped her to her feet.

"No," she disagreed, coolly, "I'm the one who shouldn't have been running. _I'm_ sorry."

"Very well then. I'm Peeta. What's your name?"

"I really should be going," Tibby said, quickly before holding out the game. "I was going to trade with your father, but I guess I've already ruined the rolls, so I'll trade for them."

Peeta pushed her hand away, the game swaying back and forth on the leather cord from the motion. "No. I heard my father this morning, complaining that we had too much meat. Keep it, and the rolls. I can't sell them anymore." He held the basket out to her and her eyes widened. There were at least twelve.

She shook her head as her fingers found the edge of the basket, taking it from his hands. "I-I can't. It's too much, I can't." Steam protruded from the top of the basket, proving that the rolls were still warm. Her heart and stomach battled— her heart telling her it probably wasn't right, but her stomach reminding her of how wonderful it was to be full of bread. Her mind seemed to side with her empty stomach, painting a picture of her poor little hungry cousins.

"Please, please take them." Peeta urged. "Otherwise, they'll go to the pigs." As if on cue, a hog snorted from outside, loud enough to reach both their ears. The two laughed, lightly.

Suddenly, a woman's voice shattered the still air. "Peeta! Peeta, where are you?"

Peeta gave Tibby a small shove towards the door. "You can thank me later." He whispered in her ear. "Hide the bread— don't let anyone see it. God forbid we have beggars on our doorstep, asking for free food. Mother wouldn't know what to think." He said, rather to himself than Tibby as he pushed her out the door before she could protest and closed it softly behind her.

"Peeta! What have you done with the rolls?" the woman's voice inquired, heatedly. "Why you little—…!"

Tibby was frozen with shock outside the door, but when she heard the distinct sound of skin being slapped against skin, she turned and ran, stuffing the basket under her jacket, not caring if she looked like a thief.

_Peeta just got in trouble… for me… _

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